The First Cut is the Deepest
by AKJ4
Summary: Set at the end of series six. Deals with the aftermath of Jill's hysterectomy.
1. Chapter 1

**The First Cut is the Deepest**

She lay in an unfamiliar bed, the bed sheet clenched tightly in her hands and pulled up to her chin. It was dark outside, but the large room was fairly light, illuminated by the lamp on the table in the centre of the ward. Her bed was placed in the corner, furthest away from the double doors. She could easily see the five other beds, whose occupants all appeared to be sleeping. Sister Brigid could be seen seated at the table, her head bent over some patient files.

She glanced at the clock on the wall, it was nearly two o'clock. Gordon had left three hours ago. Since then, she'd dozed on and off, waking periodically to Sister Brigid or Nurse Davenport checking her pulse, temperature, blood pressure... She welcomed the exhaustion, knowing that with the upset, it wouldn't be long before she slipped back into unconscious ignorance.

Tears ran down the sides of her face, dampening her hair as she lay there on her back. She tried to think back and remember when it had started to go wrong. Was there a moment in her relationship to Gordon when one had them had done something, or were they just not suited as a couple?

She'd known she was going to lose him even when she was still in casualty, even before she'd taken away his ability to have anymore children with her. She'd stuttered that it was ectopic. He'd reacted with disbelief, unable to comprehend she'd kept her pregnancy from him. Mike spoke next, telling Gordon she'd found out the day before. The expression that followed on Gordon's face was one that would always stay with her. He taken his eyes from her, staring towards the wall. He looked so distant. The hand on her cheek stilled.

She'd sobbed an apology, and moaned with the pain, bringing his attention back to her. He'd told her it was alright, he'd stroked her hair, but she could take no comfort from this. He was a good man, he couldn't desert anyone who was in pain, no matter what they had done, it was one of the things that made him such a good doctor.

She felt so terrible. She'd never meant to hurt him. She was going to tell him about the pregnancy, she just needed to get her head around it first. Unable to control it, she released a quiet sob. Matron had entered the ward without her notice, immediately halting her whispered conversation with Sister Brigid and briskly walked towards her. She drew the curtains around the bed, something Jill was glad of; she hated her colleagues and patients seeing her in such a state. Unfortunately, that included Matron; how she wanted the well-meaning woman to leave her alone.

"Now now dear." She perched on the edge of the bed, stroking Jill's hair away from her face. Immediately, the younger woman flinched, inching away as much as possible within the confines of the tightly tucked-in sheets. Matron removed her hand, sensing Jill's professional distance present, despite the circumstances. "I know it's hard, but you must really try and get a proper sleep. You've been through a major ordeal."

"Don't you think I know that?" Jill shot back harshly, staring hard at Matron, before turning her head away and muttering. "I'm fine."

"You're not. There's not shame in feeling upset. You must let it out."

"I said I'm fine." She spat. She wiped the tears roughly. "Now please leave me alone."

"Alright." Matron sighed as she rose, moving to the curtains and beginning to draw them back.

"No! I want them closed. I don't want anyone to see me."

"Jill..." Matron whispered sadly, but the doctor had already closed her eyes shut tight, signalling the end to the conversation.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun streaming through the windows of the ward told Jill it was morning. She had been awake for some time, through as far as the nurses knew, she was still asleep. When she'd awoken some hours earlier, she'd found the curtains around her bed to be open. So she lay with her eyes closed, with full consciousness of what was going on around her. She'd heard Sister Brigid's usual bright greeting of "Good morning Doctor Ormerod." And she heard Gordon's less than jovial "Hello Sister" in reply. Then the voices quieted. She could imagine their conversation; how she'd spend a restless night, how Matron had had to go and quiet her, how her temperature was slightly elevated and her blood pressure a little low...

She heard two sets of footsteps nearing her bed; one light and slightly clipped, the other heavier, with the occasional squeak of rubber against the tiles. Eventually, they stopped beside her. The two people were silent a moment, allowing Jill to hear the familiar breathing of her husband. The other might have been Sister Brigid, though she couldn't be sure until she spoke.

"We didn't want to wake her for breakfast Doctor. As I said, she didn't sleep at all well last night."

"Yes, she needs her rest. The operation has taken a lot out of her."

"Quite..."

Gordon sighed and then the pair were silent a moment. Jill could almost feel their gazes bearing down at her, making her feel incredibly uncomfortable. She was almost tempted to open her eyes and berate them for staring.

Two footsteps fell, then a squeak; Gordon was turning away. "I'll come back later Sister when she's awake."

And then the two sets of footsteps sounded again, this time growing quieter as Sister Brigid and Gordon left her side. She could do nothing to stop the lone tear sliding its way down her cheek.

* * *

It was sometime later when Jill finally opened her eyes; she could hardly pretend to be asleep all day. Immediately, Sister Brigid moved to her bedside.

"Ah Doctor Weatherill, welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." She croaked, her voice unused.

"Doctor Ormerod was here earlier. Shall I tell him you're awake?"

"No no. Don't disturb him." She avoided eye contact with Sister Brigid, instead seemingly finding the ceiling incredibly fascinating. "He'll come when he has time."

"Are you sure? I'm sure he'd love to know straight away."

"Please do as I say Sister." The comment was meant to be sharp, cutting, but it held a weary edge, dampening the effect somewhat.

"Okay then Doctor." The nun replied, seemingly unabashed. "I'm afraid you've missed breakfast. I'm sure you're famished. What shall I tell cook to make?"

"Just a cheese sandwich please." In truth, Jill didn't feel at all like eating, though she knew she wouldn't get a moment's peace if she refused the offer of food.

Sister Brigid then left the ward, allowing Jill to release a small sigh of relief. Already she couldn't wait to get out of the hospital, though she knew she had to endure at least another week, and that was if her recovery went well. She couldn't bare her colleagues staring at her and whispering about her. She could see the pity in their eyes, the questions as to why she hadn't told her husband about the baby she had carried... and lost.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello darling."

"Hi." She replied quietly. It was mid-afternoon, the first time they'd spoken since he'd explained to her the outcome of the operation. Still she had no idea what to say.

He settled himself on the chair at her side though she didn't turn to look at him. It would be easier not to have to see his expression. She didn't want to see the absence of love she was sure his eyes would gaze at her with.

"How are you feeling?" He ventured after an uncomfortable few seconds of silence.

"I'm fine." She shifted to sit up a little straighter, being careful not to show any reaction when a pain shot across her stomach in response to the movement. "The painkillers are working well."

"Good..." He trailed off. She glanced swiftly across to see him gazing across to the opposite end of the ward.

She closed her eyes briefly, wanting nothing more than him to leave, to not force her to face so soon the consequences of her actions. "How are the children?" She eventually asked. He was a good man, he wouldn't leave so soon. There was the option of either small talk, or the possibility of being forced to begin a conversation on much more important topics. She hated her cowardliness, but she didn't think she could face the later just yet.

"The children are fine. Katie and Tom left for school on time. And Jonathan was happy enough when I left this morning."

She nodded, unable to think of a reply; did the children not miss her at all? "What about this place?" She lifted a hand in a weak gesture at their surroundings.

"Nothing major as yet, thank goodness. Though of course it's a bit of a strain with only two doctors."

Again, a familiar stab of guilt. She turned her head, allowing her hair to fall in front of her face, giving her time to blink back her tears without Gordon seeing. Though when she did turn back, she laid eyes properly on his face for the first time since he'd arrived. At the same time, he lifted his gaze to hers. He wore such a stricken expression on his face; she would have reached forward to hug him tight if she thought it would be accepted.

"Jill..." He sighed.

She shook her head slightly, clenching her fists in her lap. He was about to broach a subject she wasn't ready for, she could tell. "Not now Gordon, please." She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Doctor Ormerod... Sorry to interrupt." The doctors tore their intense gazes from each other to see an uncomfortable looking Lizzie standing at the foot of the bed. "Only there's an ambulance coming in. Matron said you're needed in Casualty straight away."

"Right, thanks Lizzie."

The receptionist gave a swift nod of her blonde head, glancing once at Jill, but tottered quickly out of the ward.

"I'll see you later then Jill."

Doctor Weatherill gazed up at her husband as he rose, already putting more distance between them. At her nod, he turned away, though a second later, she called out his name. He turned back, but didn't come any closer. "I am sorry Gordon." Her voice wavered, a tear escaped her control and slide down her cheek.

It was Gordon's turn to nod. He paused, gazing at her for a second longer, before turning once again and striding out of the ward.

She noted that he hadn't greeted her with a kiss, nor did he part with one. In fact, he has made no physical contact with her at all. She realised with a pang that he probably couldn't bring himself to do so.


	4. Chapter 4

"And just where do you think you're going?"

A frustrated sigh escaped Jill and she shrugged off the hand placed on her arm. "To the bathroom Sister."

"Oh no you don't!" She tried to coax the uncooperative doctor back between the sheets. "Mr Rose instructed complete bedrest. Goodness, you only had a major operation last night!"

Jill merely scowled and fended off Sister Brigid's attempts as she manoeuvred painfully to stand.

"You'll use a bedpan, just like everyone else in your position."

"Not again Sister, please." She whispered, her cheeks burning with shame. She couldn't be put through the embarrassing ordeal again.

"And what would you say to one of your patients if they were being this difficult?"

"They don't have to work here!" She hissed. How she wished Sister Brigid would be as quiet. She was sure the other nurses in the ward could hear the conversation.

"Ah! Doctor Ormerod! Perhaps you could talk some sense into Doctor Weatherill."

Jill quietly groaned as she looked up and saw her husband stop beside them.

"Why? What's happened?"

"She's trying to leave the bed, would you believe it!"

"Only to use the bathroom." She muttered, her cheeks glowing even redder with the humiliation.

"Sister, do you think you could leave us for a minute?"

Thankfully, Sister Brigid backed away, albeit reluctantly, turning to check a nurse had drawn the correct dose of morphine for another patient.

After pulling the curtain partially closed, the male doctor perched on the edge of his wife's bed. "What's this about eh Jill?"

"I just want to go to the bathroom."

He had to strain to hear the reply, it was uttered so quietly. "But you only had a major operation last night."

"I do know that!" The irritability was clearly evident in her voice. "But I'm not using one of those things again. You can't make me!" Thus said, she proceeded to grab hold of the bedside cabinet, using it to push herself unsteadily to her feet.

"Alright, alright." He shot to his feet, grasping hold of her elbows, as if afraid she would crumble. And it happened he was right; her legs were already buckling under her, her head felt thick with fatigue and the side-effects of the painkillers. Nevertheless, she placed her hands to his chest, making a feeble attempt to push past him.

"Get out of my way. Please! Just leave me be!"

His hands grasped her elbows more firmly, easily overpowering her in her weakened state. "Why are you jeopardising your recovery Jill? You know the importance of rest; you're a doctor for goodness sake!"

She shook her head violently, struggling weakly against him, all the while, tears escaped her control and began to spill from her tired eyes. "How can the nurses respect me after they've dealt with me?"

"The nurses do that all the time. They respect the patients."

"But after I've been discharged, I'll no longer be a patient, I'll be a doctor, their colleague." Her lips trembled and more tears ran across her pale skin. Her last words came out in a defeated whisper. "Please Gordon."

"Alright." A sigh escaped him as he finally began to understand. He gently lowered her down to the bed, noting how she almost sagged in his arms. "I'll try and talk Sister Brigid round."

She watched her husband as he crossed the short distance across the ward to Sister Brigid, their figures blurry and wavering through her tears. Her hand rose to roughly wipe the salty moisture away. A few deep breaths followed, allowing her to compose herself by the time Gordon rejoined her.

"Sister Brigid agrees, _if_," he stressed the word. "You go in a wheelchair."

"Thank you Gordon." And she smiled. There was such a rush of gratitude for this small gesture to preserve her dignity and self-respect. Yet, there was also guilt, growing stronger until the smile fell away and she turned her gaze from Gordon; she was still demanding of him, and he was still supporting her, despite all she'd taken from him. Silence fell between the married couple.

Eventually, Alun arrived, complete with wheelchair. Jill thanked him as he unfolded the contraption and engaged the brake. He in turn had the tact to utter only a few words to the doctors before turning and leaving the ward.

Jill kept her head down as Gordon wheeled her through the corridor. She couldn't bear to look and see everyone staring at her; whether with sympathy, curiosity or plain nosiness, each was as bad as the other. It was a small hospital, everyone would likely had heard that she had lost a baby, that she had lost the ability to have any more babies, that she had failed to tell her husband, their colleague, that she was carrying his child.


	5. Chapter 5

"How are Lucy Hibbert and her father?" Jill asked once she was settled back into bed. She looked over at Gordon, sat on a chair at her side.

"Well she seems to be recovering well. She was discharged today I believe."

"I noticed." Being such a small ward, all the patients could see the comings and goings of each other. As such, by midday, Jill had seen two of her patients; Lucy Hibbert and Janice Hayward leave the ward with their families. Their beds had quickly become filled with two women Jill didn't recognise, though they both appeared to be in Mike's care. "I meant," She continued after a pause. "How are they emotionally? His wife did lie to him, but he still lost her, and his baby. And Lucy lost her step-mother and brother or sister. Although of course the baby didn't really exist..." The last few words became gradually more inaudible until she finally trailed off, swallowing rapidly to control the sudden build-up of tears her words had provoked.

"They did both seem fine. I think they just need time to adjust and re-establish their relationship."

"What about baby Adam? Is he recovering well?"

Gordon nodded, barely suppressing a sigh at all the questions. "Of course it'll be a while before we know the extent of the damage that the bile salts caused, but he seems to be progressing."

"And what about Mr and Mrs Hayward? They were devastated when their baby died." Again, there was a catch in her throat at the mention of a baby.

"They'll work through it somehow I suppose." This time he did release a frustrated sigh. "Look, Jill will you stop worrying about your patients and start concentrating on yourself. You had a major operation last night."

"I know!" She shouted, shocking herself, Gordon and the other occupants of the ward. "I wish people would stop reminding me. I just want to forget!" The smack of her hand against the bedside cabinet accompanied her shout. Both were silent a moment, until her eyes filled with tears which soon began to spill down her cheeks. Gordon whispered her name, whilst she sobbed an apology.

"Doctor Ormerod, sorry." Matron had stepped up to the foot of the bed. She glanced briefly at Jill. "You're needed up at Riggs Head Farm. Doctor Banner's in theatre..."

"Of course Matron." He rose, placing a hand briefly on his wife's shoulder. His pain at leaving her in such a state was obvious in his expression.

Matron moved to claim Gordon's seat. She touched Jill's arm softly with her hand, which was immediately shrugged away. "Please leave me alone."

"Jill, you-"

"Doctor Weatherill to you." The younger woman interjected. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with an angry hand.

"You need to talk to people." Matron tried again. "Let people help you. We all care about you very much."

A shake of the head immediately dismissed the notion. "I'll be fine if people just left me alone."

Sighing wearily, Matron rose. She drew the curtains around the bed and left, leaving the doctor alone, as she had requested.


	6. Chapter 6

"Good morning Jill."

"Mike!" She exclaimed, shifting to raise herself into a sitting position; she hated lying down when her colleagues were standing above her. She felt submissive and unassertive; the exact opposite of how she wanted people to see her. She hated it.

"How are you feeling today? Any pain?"

"No, the Tramadol is working brilliantly."

They were both silent a moment as Mike read through the notes at the end of her bed, taking in the figures the nurses had so carefully written down. "Well your blood pressure is a little higher today, which is better, though it's still a little low. And everything else seems fine." He hooked the notes back over the bed frame. "Mr Rose will be here soon to examine his handiwork."

As if on cue, the surgeon strolled up to them, but not before looking a nurse up and down as he passed her. Jill rolled her eyes and tutted, realising that despite everything that had happened, some things never changed.

"Good morning, good morning! And how's Doctor Weatherill today?"

"She seems to be progressing well. Low blood pressure, but otherwise fine."

As Doctor Banner filled Mr Rose in, Jill shifted to sit up straighter despite the pain it caused her. She sighed loudly, prompting both men to look at her.

"I am here, you know. I may be lying in this cursed bed, but I haven't lost the ability to think or speak.

"Quite." He removed his pipe from his mouth, holding it out to Sister Brigid. The look on the nun's face was far from impressed. "Lie down then please dear. Let's have a look."

He examined the incision site in silence for a few minutes whilst she looked away, trying to imagine she was anywhere else than there, being stared at by her colleagues.

"No problems here Doctor." He straightened up, retrieving his pipe from Sister Brigid who had held it at arms' length. "A good job, if I say so myself."

"It'll scar won't it?"

"Most likely." He puffed on his pipe. "I did try my best."

"I know." She whispered, glancing down at stitches, surrounded by her own skin. She quickly looked away, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

Perhaps Mr Rose saw her discomfort as he made a gesture, telling her he was finished, prompting her to pull the blanket over her. He nodded once before bidding a gruff goodbye and striding out the ward.


	7. Chapter 7

"What are you doing up and about? What happened to having to be in a wheelchair?"

"Ah well, I escaped when Sister Brigid wasn't looking." She allowed a small smile to tug at her mouth.

"Talk about doctors making the worst patients." He took her arm. "Come on. Let's get you back to the ward."

Her smile instantly disappeared at his words. "No Gordon, please. I'm sick of being in there."

"Alright." He sighed. "At least come and sit in my office."

She nodded in assent, and together they walked slowly towards the GPs' offices. As morning surgery was over, reception was empty, so no sounds of the chatter of waiting patients, or the screaming of bored children reached their ears. Halfway along their short journey, pain began to gradually creep up on Jill, until she was wincing with each step she took. Though of course, she wasn't going to let Gordon know.

Jill settled into one of the patients' chairs, Gordon into his own broad-backed padded chair. However, after only of few moments of stilted conversation about the hospital and the children, Gordon began pacing, his actions becoming increasingly agitated as the minutes passed. It was obvious he was fighting an internal struggle; he kept turn towards her, his mouth opening, his lips forming the words, but stopped at the last minute.

Silence descended. He moved between the desk, the bookcase, the window, taking nothing in. She lowered her eyes to her lap, trying to think desperately of a light-hearted topic of conversation that would last more than half a minute. She didn't get the chance though as he suddenly spoke, his voice quiet yet laden an unimaginable amount of emotion.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She snapped her head up. Her eyes focused on his face, revealing the hardness in his expression, to accompany the accusation underlying his questioning. She'd seen his agitation, yet the question still shocked her. "I only found out the day before." She paused, desperate to justify her actions. "I was going to tell you!"

"When?"

"When I'd figured out what I was wanted to do."

He paused in his pacing to stare at her with disbelief. "What do you mean? Were you considering an abortion?"

"That was one of the options. But-"  
"And what?" He cut her off. "I was to have no say in this?"

"No of course not." She kicked his desk in frustration. "I just needed to get my head round it first before we discussed it."

"And you didn't think that I would need time to get used to the idea?"

"No!" She cried, flicking the first tear off her cheek, hating the accusation in his tone, hating how the topic had arisen before she'd had time to adequately prepare her argument. Hating most of all that he had every right to be angry. "It's different for you. I know you want more children. But… I don't... at least... I didn't think I did."

Gordon stared at her for a few seconds before turning to the window. He folded his arms.

"Gordon, I didn't tell you because I didn't want to argue with you! Our relationship seemed to be getting better. And I knew, if I said I wanted an abortion, we'd argue. And if I had the baby, we'd argue about me returning to work."

He turned back to her, his tone quieter. "We wouldn't necessarily have argued."

"Oh come off it!" She exclaimed, her voice, by contrast, escalating away from calm. "Have you forgotten what it was like after Jonathan was born? You couldn't bear the fact that I wasn't this perfect mother you wanted me to be."

"I only wanted the best for Jonathan- our son!"

She shook her head, her lips twisting into a wry smile. "I don't see why you married me in the first place. You know how important my career is to me. I was never going to give up my job. We even discussed if before the wedding for goodness sake!"

Gordon opened his mouth, Jill tensed. But whatever his words, they were swallowed when a heavy knock came upon his door.

Gordon bid his visitor entry, the door opening to reveal Matron. The doctors spent the next few minutes in silence as Matron berated them for arguing, for airing their disputes so loudly in her hospital. "Right, back to the ward I think." The older woman finally said, indicating the wheelchair.

Jill merely shook her head sharply, brushed past Matron and escaped out of the office. She glanced back only once as she walked away, fighting to maintain her composure.

There was a tiny part of her that thought he'd run after her, take her in his arms, and tell her he was sorry, that he did love her, and that he had never regretted marrying her. But none of that happened, she just made her way slowly and painfully along the corridor and into the ward, alone.


	8. Chapter 8

Jill's following days as a patient at The Royal passed much the same as the others. She awoke, ate, read, ate, read, ate, read, and finally slept. Some part of this routine was occasionally punctuated by a visitor, including her husband.

He had apologised for shouting at her, she had apologised for... everything. Yet, nothing seemed to have been resolved. Conversation was even more stilted. She longed to go back to a time when they could speak for hours of nothing of consequence, when she was sure of their mutual feelings for one another. This had been the case in the early stages of their relationship, even when they were just friends.

It was at the beginning of her second week as a patient that her irritatingly mind-numbing routine changed. And it was all thanks to the hospital administrator, Adam Carnegie. He visited her one afternoon, looking extremely uncomfortable at addressing her in a bed of his hospital. They exchanged pleasantries and formalities; he enquired as to how she was doing, she said she was fine, looking forward to returning to work, he wished her a speedy recovery. After an uncomfortable pause, she spoke, needing to discuss something other than herself.

"I wanted to ask, how's the fund raising for the prem-baby unit coming along?"

"Not well." He sighed and sank into the chair at her side. "You know my proposal was rejected. And I'm afraid my efforts have cost more than they've accumulated."

"You're the only one who's supported me in getting this unit. We learn from what didn't work, and we try again." She sat up a little straighter, some of the sparkle returning to her eyes for the first time in weeks, as her brain began to run through the situation. "The hospital used to have an annual charity ball. It's been a couple of years since the last one, but I'm sure we can organise a new one effectively. Ken Hopkirk can always get his hands on cheap goods. And any profit can go to the fund."

"But that on its own won't be enough."

"I know, I'll think of some other things. I may aswell make myself useful whilst I'm here." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she ran over solutions. "I know it's highly irregular, but do you think I could have a look at the income and expenditure reports of the fundraising efforts. I could perhaps disassociate what worked from what didn't."

"Are you sure you're up to it? Perhaps I should double check with one of the doctors."

"Adam!" She snapped a little sharper than intended. "I'm not going to leave this bed, I'm only going to read the reports. Besides," her voice softened. "I'm bored stiff sitting here all day with nothing to do."

"Alright." He replied with some reluctance. "What about Doctor Ormerod?"

"What about him?"

"Well he's not exactly my number one fan is he? He may not be pleased I'm giving you work to do."

"You leave my husband to me. What I choose to do is none of his business."


	9. Chapter 9

"What's all this?"

Jill slowly placed a pen down and raised her head from the reams of figures with a sigh. She had been dreading her husband's arrival. More conflict was not what she needed. "I'm working on new fundraising plans."

"That blasted man! How dare he make you work? You're meant to be recovering."

"Oh for goodness sake Gordon!" Her retaliation was equally as sharp as her husband's accusation. "I need something to do whilst I'm trapped in this cursed bed. And before you say anything else, it was my idea."

Gordon immediately closed his mouth, his next words swallowed before he uttered them. He hadn't come to argue. "I've just spoken to Mike." He sank down onto the chair at her side, immediately continuing as she raised her eyebrows at him, her expression showing her impatience. "He thinks he should be able to discharge you tomorrow."

"Really?" Her voice and face brightened, she sat up straighter, nearly upsetting the papers from her lap.

"Yes really." Her smile, infectious, was returned. He reached forward quickly to catch the papers as they once more made for the floor; she seemed unable to sit still now she'd been given the news.

"It'll be good to go home."

"It'll be good to have you home."

"Really?" This time the word was whispered. The smile was quickly replaced with a frown, her eyes holding a level of anxiety Gordon was unaccustomed to seeing.

He reached forward to take a firm hold of her hand, hoping it would help affirm his words before he replied. "Of course. I do love you Jill."

He watched painfully as her lips twisted, she in turn feeling a deep burning in her chest. "But… How can you? After-." There was a struggle to get the words out, voice cracking, tears forming. "After everything I've done. After everything I've taken from you?"

"Shhh." Was all he uttered, shifting onto the bed and reaching forward, encasing his wife against him in a much longed for hug. They needed it, neither had been particularly forthcoming with affection after the operation, neither sure how the other would react. Her body shook again him with deep sobs, muffled against the soft material of his suit jacket. He removed a hand from her for just a second, motioning for Sister Brigid to draw the curtains around them. Once the signal had been understood, he immediately returned the hand to her back, alternatively stroking up and down her spine and rubbing in firm circles. Part of him was desperate, hoping to calm her quickly. The other part was content merely to hold her and let her cry so desperately for as long as she needed. It was obviously a much needed release; he actually felt a little relieved.

Jill, on the other hand, fought hard to regain some control, though it felt as if she may never. She clung to him as tight as she could, willing him not to come to his senses- as she saw it- and release her. She snuggled closer to him, pressed her face against his neck and inhaled the faint scent of his familiar aftershave as he in turn tightened his hold on her. She was still a little bewildered that it was actually herself who was sobbing with such abandon. She didn't even know what had happened; a few seconds previously, she'd been happy to be going home. And then… And then he held her, for the first time since the operation. And, she supposed, the relief at the contact between them was such that everything she had held so long had come rushing out.

It was several minutes until her sobs ceased and even longer before the tears finally stopped. Still, he continued to hold her. It was only when the clamour of the dinner trolley entering the ward penetrated their cocoon that Gordon pulled back a little, just enough to look her in the eye. "Look," his voice was gentle. "A lot has happened, and we have a lot to talk about. But let's wait until we get home, where we won't be interrupted."

She nodded, allowing herself to be held tightly against him once again. In the space of half an hour, both of their emotions had swung from irritation, anger almost, to happiness, to utter sadness, and finally to an exhausted calm… A beginning of an understanding perhaps… A reaffirming of their love?


	10. Chapter 10

"Well, I'm happy to say… You can go home today."

"Finally!" She beamed at Mike and rose, grabbing her bag from the bedside locker and proceeding to fill it.

"Hold on!"

At Mike's words, she paused and turned back to him.

"I need to lay down some ground rules."

She sighed and sat down on the bed, her good mood evaporated; she knew what he was going to say.

"Okay, first of all, take it easy." He raised his eyebrows and she shrugged in reply, as if she thought he had no cause to say it. "I've signed you off work for six weeks, so I don't expect to see you unless you're here for a check-up. No heavy lifting, plenty of rest. And no… You know… Sexual activity for at least six weeks."

"Yes Sir." She mock saluted, trying to ignore the pink in her cheeks caused by his last words. Her sex life wasn't something she wanted to discuss with anyone, especially her colleagues.

"And I'm under strict instructions not to let you leave this building without Doctor Ormerod." Judging by the speed at which Mike delivered his words, he too, wanted to steer the conversation away from the embarrassing topic.

"And what time will that be?"

"He's got a couple of house calls before lunch. He said he'd drop you at home on his way."

She nodded. "If you see him, tell him I'll be in my office. I've a spare suit in there."

Upon Mike's departure from the ward, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. She hated depending on people. If something needed doing, she'd do it herself, and woe betide anyone who thought she couldn't. Six weeks off work she liked even less. Perhaps she could sneak back early… And Mike's last instruction… The least she dwelled on that the better…


	11. Chapter 11

The seemingly interminably long car journey was passed in near silence. There was a distinct awkward atmosphere between them; uncommon in their relationship. Even when they had been going through their 'rough patch' – as she had termed it – they still hadn't felt this uncomfortable in each other's presence. There had been annoyance, anger even. But that would be immensely preferable to the current stilted conversation of half formed sentences and meaningless, inconsequential statements. With an argument, she could have a hold of her feelings, and she could pinpoint the reason behind Gordon's attitude to her. But there was no argument. There was the devastating loss of their baby. Although this was in a way the easiest of their problems to deal with; there was grief on both sides. However, there was then the issue of her having not told Gordon of the baby in the first place. And then harshly snatching away his chance of any more children, if he stayed with her…

The closer they came to the house, the more nervous she became. She could hardly expect everything in their private lives to be the same. There was a real, palpable fear of how different it would be, and what exactly would be changed.

"How does it feel to be back?" Gordon turned to her as he killed the ignition.

She smiled as she gazed out of the passenger window. Her view was of the front of their house; the plants trailing around the arch above their gate were now in full bloom; her first indication of what she'd missed whilst in hospital. "It feels fantastic." She replied to his question. "I've missed you all so much." She bit her lip then, afraid of his response; the future of their relationship was precarious enough in her eyes, without her forcing shows of affection from him.

She hastily exited the car, not wishing to bear witness to his lack of response, or perhaps worse, a forced reply, blatant in its insincerity. The swift movement was, perhaps, not particularly wise. A pain shot through her stomach as the stitches pulled at the incision site. She drew a sharp intake of breath, her hands clamping over her abdomen. The immediate pain was thankfully brief, leaving her with the mild discomfort that had plagued her since the operation. A sharp glance to her right told her that Gordon had popped the boot open and was occupied in lifting her bags from the car; hopefully he hadn't witnessed her actions. As he slammed the boot down, she proceeded across the pavement. Her steps were slower than normal, and though her posture was as perfect as always, tiredness was already creeping upon her from the brief activity. Freed from the confines of the hospital bed and strict nurses, she began to realise just how little she would be able to do during her recovery.

It was her slow steps that allowed Gordon to reach her with just two strides. He quietly uttered her name, accompanied with a brief touch of his finger to her hand. She had just unlatched the gate, and stood at the entrance to the front garden when she turned in response.

"I've missed you too." Was all he whispered. He lifted a hand to her jaw, gently guiding her lips towards his.

Framed by the floral arch, the image would have beautiful to anyone who didn't know the couple's troubles.


	12. Chapter 12

"Where's Jonathan?"

Jill stood in the middle of the hallway, having checked the whole of the downstairs and hearing no movement from the floor above.

"Sarah's probably taken him out." Gordon stepped around his wife, brushing his hand briefly down her arm, beginning to climb the stairs with Jill's small blue suitcase.

She frowned, and followed him up more slowly, wincing with each step. The children had visited on a couple of occasions during the time she'd been in the hospital. However, visiting times were short, and the children quickly became restless at having to sit at her bedside. So she had been looking forward to arriving home to Jonathan, and seeing Katie and Tom when they finished school later in the day.

She leant heavily against the doorframe of their bedroom. Her breathing was faster than she would have liked, the blood pulsed rapidly, affecting a light-headiness. And all from merely climbing the stairs; she cursed under her breath at her weakness.

Gordon unpacked her belongings from her suitcase; she only followed his movements, not really concentrating on his actions. She heaved a deep breath, hoping to slow her respirations before speaking. "When will Jonathan and Sarah be back?"

Gordon turned from placing the wooden-handled hairbrush on the dressing table. "No idea." Her engagement ring was extracted from a side-pocket, and he paused, as if considering where to place it. Jill stepped forward, holding out her hand. The ring exchanged hands, fingers sliding against each other, eliciting a little of the familiar tingling in both parties. She moved to her bedside cabinet, opening the drawer and extracting a black box, the jeweller's name written in silver on the top. "I don't imagine Sarah and Jonathan will be long." Gordon raised his voice as he entered their en-suite bathroom, placing her toothbrush where it belonged next to his.

Perched on the side of the bed, finally having given in to the need to sit down, Jill couldn't help but marvel at the ease in which they moved around each other. Despite how their lives had changed a mere three weeks before, their possessions still belonged comfortably side by side, and they themselves would still live under the same roof. Though of course their relationship couldn't possibly carry on as before, though just how different things would be remained to be seen.

Banishing the final thought, she watched as Gordon picked up the now empty suitcase and stowed it beneath the bed. "When Sarah returns, I may as well send her home. She can go on paid leave until I return to work."

"Ah, I don't think so."

"Why not?" She frowned again, not liking the change in the tone of her husband's voice, and his instant dismissal of her suggestion.

"Because you've just had a major operation that's why!" His voice rose with increasing incredulity, but in contrast, hers lowered and quieted as it did when she became angry.

"I know I've had an operation, I don't need reminding. But I am perfectly capable of looking after my son."

"Jill! I'm not having this discussion. I'm late for my house-calls already." He looked pointedly at her as if she should be grateful that he had brought her home at all. He paced away before suddenly sighing and turning, the tension leaving his body. "Look sweetheart, I'm sorry."

She shrugged off the hand placed on her shoulder, rising and walking stiffly to the window.

"You have to take it easy. Your body needs time to recover."

"I thought you said you were late for a house-call."

The coldness in her tone was cutting, prompting him to sigh heavily. "Look, I'll go now. But please don't overdo it."

Her lips were trembling even before the front door banged closed. The tears fell then, the sight of his car driving away from their house was a mere blur. She turned, blindly sinking into a chair and lowering her head to the cradle of her hands.


	13. Chapter 13

It was nearly half an hour later when she heard the front door click open. At first she thought it was Gordon come to make amends, but the footfalls were not those she recognised as her husband. With one last sniff, and a swipe of the damp tissue across her cheeks, she rose from her position by the window. She paused by the mirror, but the reflection she surveyed was not one she liked; her normally pale skin held an unhealthy grey tinge, her eyes were marked with bags, her lips framed by lines of pain. Her reflection was disregarded with disgust, and she began her slow descent of the stairs. Halfway down, where she failed to miss the creaking step, she could make out the voice of the children's nanny. And then the gurgle and babble of her son.

It took her longer than she liked to descend the final steps and enter the living room. "Hello Sarah." She smiled, her eyes falling to her son. "Hello Jonathan." Slowly, she picked her way around the living room furniture, sitting herself on the opposite end of the settee to Sarah. Her open arms were eagerly sort by Jonathan who shuffled across the cushions to his mother. "Ooops!" She exclaimed as he toppled onto his side with a giggle. At nine months old he was still mastering the art of crawling, the uneven surface of the settee hindered his progress even more. Still, undeterred, he rolled back and made his way with a delighted laugh to Jill's lap. "Oh my big boy! I have missed you." She sat him up, enveloping him in her arms to cuddle against her.

Gordon had brought the children to visit a couple of times whilst she'd been in hospital, but they all soon became fidgety at her bedside. Tom and Katie were well behaved but uncomfortable, no doubt due in some part to Caroline's confinement in the building during her last months. And Jonathan seemed confused and distressed by the hospital bed and the ward surroundings. Instead of his mother's arms, he chose instead to cling to his father, turning his face into Gordon's shoulder away from everyone around him.

The nanny's departure from the room was barely noticed by Jill as she sat stroking her son's hair and making soft replies to his sounds and half-formed words. Still, nine months on, she could hardly believe she was a mother, let alone one who actually missed her child so deeply. She remembered when she'd been pregnant with Jonathan; how worried she'd been, how she'd never really become happy about the prospect about a baby, merely getting used to the idea. She'd known it wouldn't have helped Gordon's recovery if she divulged her concerns to him.

Jonathan shifted then, his attention seemingly captured by something over his mother's shoulder. As he squirmed, she loosened her hold on him, then immediately wished she hadn't as a knee made pressed hard on her stomach. She sucked in a sharp breath, quickly moving Jonathan's leg with one hand, and covering the incision site with the other.

"It's alright Jonathan, Mummy knows you didn't mean to hurt me." A smile adorned her face as she said this, not wanting to alert the boy to anything being amiss.

Settling her son in a more comfortable position at her side, her mind inadvertently wandered from her first pregnancy.

Her second pregnancy…


	14. Chapter 14

Gordon didn't arrive home until long after the children were in bed and Sarah had left for the day. He entered the house with trepidation, wary about the greeting, or lack of one, he would be faced with. He'd known, as soon as he left their bedroom earlier that day that he should have returned, attempted to rectify things. It had pained him to hear the coldness in her voice, the way she turned her back on him and shrugged off his hand, all the ways his careless words had wounded her. He'd only been trying to make her rest. Granted, perhaps he should have done it more gently, more tactfully, but he had to make her see! Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her lying on that bed in casualty, her face marred with tears, writhing with the pain searing through her stomach. Or he recalled the image in theatre, when he himself had to draw the cold blade through his wife's soft skin, marking her permanently. He still felt the clammy grasp of her hand, the fingers digging into his arm as she sobbed numerous apologies to him in her weakened state. Or occasionally, the sensation sprang to mind of the gentle pull of resistance of Jill's skin to the scalpel he held.

A noise in the living room drew his attention, pulling him from the distressing thoughts. Realising he had been idling in the hall for longer than would be classed as necessary, he took a deep steadying breath, and stepped towards the front room of their home. A neutral greeting at the tip of his tongue stuck upon the scene before him. Jill stood dressed in her casual trousers and blouse with slightly unruly hair resting around her shoulders. The attire was one that he usually found adorably sweet; his wife looking natural and comfortable in her own home. Yet the Jill before him was anything but comfortable. She shifted from foot to foot, her hands wringing in front of her, her gaze settling on anything but his face. He whispered her name, stepping forwards and gently taking her hands in her own, stilling her movements.

"I'm sorry Gordon."

"I know." He brushed a strand of her fringe back into place. A soft smile rested on his lips, but the tender action was too much and a sob escaped her. Her lips trembled in the effort to hold in her tears, rapidly building until they slid down her cheeks. "Hey come on, it's alright." He said, stepping closer, pulling her into him and encasing her tightly in his arms. After a momentary hesitation, she sank into his embrace, burying her face against his neck and clinging tightly to the jacket at his back.

"I just want things to go back to how they were before."

"I know darling."

She sobbed harder, unable to stop the tears now they'd started. Words, marred by sobs were whispered into his shoulder. He in turn murmured soothingly, interrupted by kisses to her hair. His hand rubbed a soothing motion up and down her back whilst his other cupped the base of her skull, his fingers massaging the nape of her neck.

Feeling his wife's form shuddering against him did nothing to alleviate his earlier worries. He cursed himself for having left her after an argument. He'd been attempting to make her relax, not give her something more to fret about all day.

After several minutes of standing in the middle of the living room, during which time she calmed only minimally, he removed an arm from around her for a moment, hitching back his sleeve to see his watch. "How's about we go to bed love?" It was a little early for him, but he could tell Jill was verging on exhaustion. This was probably contributing to her tearfulness, he guessed.

At the nod against his shoulder, he gently released her, taking her hand and walking slowly with her to their bedroom, pausing only to turn off the lights.

He watched sadly as she picked up her pyjamas and walked into their en-suite bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her; she was obviously embarrassed at undressing in front of him. The lock was slid across, something they never did when the other was in the room to prevent the children barging in. He sighed heavily and changed, sliding into bed to await her return.

When she exited the bathroom, she looked a little better; the tears had been washed from her face, the puffiness diminished somewhat with cold water. However, her eyes were still red, and they still watered with barely restrained tears.

He pulled back the covers on her side, inviting her to join him. She did so slowly, her body suddenly lethargic from the brief activity of the day. In addition, each movement pulled at her stiches, prompting many a wince, something that did not go unnoticed by Gordon.

Encased in her husband's arms once more, Jill closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly. It had been a long time since she'd fallen asleep in Gordon's arms, and only then did she realise how much she'd missed it. She'd thought it was the contrast of the hospital bed to her own bed that made nights uncomfortable. But it was then she remembered the main comfort at nights was her husband. It didn't matter whether they lay as they were now with her back to his chest being held securely against him, or whether they faced each other with arms enveloping the other, or whether she discarded her pillow for his chest so she could hear his familiar heartbeat beneath her ear.

Feeling her relax at last, Gordon smiled against her hair, placing a kiss to her head. He continued the movement of his thumbs against her hip and the palm of her hand; a whisper of a touch that he knew helped her pass into a deep sleep after a difficult day. And it seemed to work on this occasion as well. Her breathing was deep, slow, rhythmical and comfortingly familiar. It served to settle him; having her in his arms assured him she was still with him after he had so nearly lost her. After half an hour of listening to her, assuring him she was deeply asleep, he carefully slid his arms from around her. Thus extricated, he turned over and inched across the bed. He didn't dare hold her anymore; he couldn't even want to risk lying close to her. He was too worried he would hurt her inadvertently in his sleep; he knew she would still be incredibly tender.

It was then that he realised he didn't really have a grasp of what exactly she had been crying about. She'd said she wanted 'things' to be 'how they were before'. But what 'things'? And at what point in the past was she yearning after? Perhaps she was grieving for their lost baby, or at losing the chance to have anymore. Or perhaps she was worried as to the future of their relationship. He knew he was.


	15. Chapter 15

Jill slid back into consciousness gradually. Her first awareness was of a dull ache radiating from her lower abdomen. As she became more fully awake, the pain increased until eventually she was completely conscious. The room was still enveloped in the darkness of the night. Clouds obscured the moon, the only light entering the room was artificial, from the streetlights situated at intervals on the road outside. The clock on her bedside was faintly illuminated. As her eyes lost the blurriness of one only having just awoken, she could make out the time as being nearly four o'clock. It was nearly six hours since she'd last had any painkillers.

The pain in her stomach grew both with time and with her awareness, and she slipped gingerly out of bed, the stitches pulling at the wound as her muscles contracted with the movement. She hissed at the sharp pain, quickly stifling the noise with a hand to her mouth, wary of her sleeping husband. With the other hand pressed to the incision site, she turned warily to Gordon. It was then that she noticed his position.

He lay with his back to her, his body almost teetering on the edge of the bed. As far as she recalled, she'd fallen asleep with him holding her tightly to him. He may have released her in his sleep, but he would have made a conscious effort to lay that close to the edge. An ache in her chest accompanied the pain in her abdomen, and the sharp throbbing at the wound. She quickly looked away, plucking her dressing gown from her hook on the door as she passed.

The kitchen was cold as she entered, prompting her to pull the lapels of the fleece garment together. She quickly located the pills Doctor Banner has prescribed her, high in one of the cupboards. Two of the smooth coated tablets were swallowed with a gulp of water colder than the air of the kitchen. After setting the glass by the sink to be washed, and replacing the pills in cupboard out of the children's reach, she turned off the light.

No light was needed to guide her way through the hallway, up the stairs and into the shared bedroom; the route was familiar enough to her, she knew the location of every object which may impede her route. The hallway table, upon which the telephone stood, was stepped around. The newel post was grasped first time with a blind hand. The banister was smooth and cool, supporting her lethargic body, allowing her to step over the creaking stair; her journey was not alerted to the rest of the household.

She slipped into the familiar covers of their bed, the cotton softer than the scratchy, over-washed ones in the hospital. The sheets still held the warmth of her body, serving to dispel some of the chill from her journey to the kitchen and back. She turned, her back to the window, facing her husband. He still resided in the same position as before, though she could no longer be sure if he was asleep. She gazed at his back, willing him to turn, move towards her and hold her. He'd told her he loved her in the hospital. He'd whispered loving sentiments to her to ease her passed into sleep. But, she began to wonder, was he telling the truth? At that moment, he seemed to want to be anywhere but next to her.


	16. Chapter 16

The house was awfully quiet when Jill next awoke. The first thing she was aware of was the light shining through the partially opened curtains. She then became aware that she was alone in the bedroom. Looking at the clock on her bedside able informed her it was half past nine. Gordon must have opened the curtains a fraction whilst he dressed, avoiding turning on the light so as not to wake her.

She still felt incredibly weak, but she felt brighter than she had done since the operation. Despite the one occasion during the night, she had certainly slept longer. Whilst in hospital she was periodically awoken by nurses performing routine observations, patients causing commotion, or the squeak of the none-too-well-oiled wheels of the breakfast trolley.

Slower than usual, she began her morning tasks of preparing herself. She washed and dressed, each movement pulling painfully on the stiches, making her pause periodically, and causing many a sharp intake of breath. Her hair was tidied and pulled up into a simple ponytail without her customary beehive. Despite knowing she would be spending the whole day in the house, she applied a little makeup to cover the grey pallor her skin had taken after the operation. Once completed, she felt ready to venture from the bedroom.

She'd heard some faint noises from the downstairs rooms. Gordon would be at work, and Katie and Tom at school. So that left their youngest, and the nanny. This was proved to be indeed correct as she entered the kitchen. Jonathan was sat in his highchair, gabbling away to Sarah between mouthfuls of some none-too-appetising mush in a jar.

"Hello Mrs Ormerod!" Sarah said brightly, turning to the door, only having to return her attention to Jonathan a second later a he grabbed her hand holding the spoon. "You like this don't you?" She cooed, spooning more of the mixture into his mouth.

Jill responded quietly. Her hand rose to unconsciously brush over her stomach. She crossed the kitchen to her son, stroking a hand through his hair and placing a kiss to his head. But his attention was not captured, his focus was still on his nanny and the food she held.

"Sorry Mrs Ormerod." The young woman looked up at her employer with some trepidation. "Do you want to take over?"

"No, no. You're alright." She forced a bright smile. "He seems settled. Best leave him be."

She retreated quietly from the kitchen.


	17. Chapter 17

The phone ringing through the house interrupted Jill later in the morning. She had shut herself in the study, going through the paperwork Mr Carnegie had given her. From what she had read and calculated so far, it was pretty obvious most of the fundraising for the premature baby unit hadn't gone at all well. She'd just reached the reams of figures for one of the private meals when the piercing ringing met her ears.

As quickly as she could in her condition, she made her way into the hallway, snatching up the receiver on the fifth ring. "Doctor Weatherill."

"Hello Doctor… It's Lizzie here… Erm, I've got a message from Doctor Ormerod. He says he won't be able to pop home for lunch. It's dead busy here you see! There've been four emergencies already this morning!" Her voice dropped to a secretive whisper. "Mr Rose isn't in the best of moods, as you can imagine. He was meant to tee off two hours ago!"

"Oh dear." She released a laugh, one that was actually genuine. If there was anyone guaranteed to put a smile on someone's face, even if only for a second, it was going to be Lizzie.

"Anyway, I'd best be getting on. Matron's coming. Bye!"

"Bye Lizzie!" She shook her head and laughed again, though it was quickly followed by a deep sigh as Lizzie put down the phone and the short reprieve was ended.

Deciding she needed a break from accounting, she entered the living room to find Sarah and Jonathan on the floor, surrounded by toys. She edged into the room, not wanting to break the atmosphere that had developed; Jonathan's giggles could be frequently heard whilst he played a game with his nanny that appeared merely to be the passing back and forth of various toys.

"Mama!" The young child's attention was captured as Jill entered his line of sight.

"Hello Jonathan. Do you want me to join you?" At his continued outstretched arms, she lowered herself awkwardly to the floor. "Goodness Jonathan, I don't think I'm going to get back up. Do you think you'll be able to help Mummy?"

"Car!" He squealed, dumping said object in his mother's lap.

"Why thank you." She beamed, the image of Jonathan becoming blurry as tears formed, though she was unable to pinpoint the reason. She blinked them back, determined not to let Sarah nor her son see her.

"Mrs Ormerod, I was just going to make some lunch. Would you like me to leave him here?"

"Yes please." She replied, glancing up at the nanny as she stood. "Oh Sarah, did Gordon say he was coming home for lunch today?"

"He did mention something. Erm, it was just to see how you're doing I think."

"Really?" A soft smile fell on her lips.


	18. Chapter 18

"I'll be off to pick up the children. Shall I take Jonathan with me?"

"No no. He can stay here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." She shifted nervously. "Only Mr Ormerod said-"

"Ignore what he said. I'll be fine for half an hour."

She frowned after the nanny had left the room. Just what exactly had her husband instructed Sarah to do? How little did he think she was capable of?

"You're not going to give me any bother, are you Jonathan." She smiled down at her son who garbled something unintelligible in response. "Hmm. Quite." She nodded, passing him the red car he was reaching for.

It was a mere half an hour later when the peaceful scene was broken by loud shouts of "Jill!" as the two eldest children careened into the room.

"Hello you two!" She turned from her position on the floor, grinning as two excitable children bounded into the room. "Erm." She glanced down at their feet once they'd stopped beside her. "Shoes off please. You know the rules." After much grumbling, they acquiesced, returning to the living room shoeless and a little less excitable. Holding out her arms, she spoke again. "Right come here. I want a hug now."

Giggling, the two elder children wrapped their arms around first her, then their little brother. Tom stepped over Jill to play with Jonathan's toy cars, and Katie settled at her step-mother's side.

"Don't you have an evening class on a Tuesday?" Jill looked over the top of Katie's head at Sarah who was settling herself on the settee.

"I do. But…"

Jill sighed at seeing the younger woman shift uncomfortably. "What did my husband say?"  
"He just said I should stay until he got back. To- To help you with the children."

"Look." Another sigh was released. "I'll be fine. Tom and Katie are here to help me now. Don't worry." She continued on seeing the au pair's worried face. "I'll speak to him when he gets home. He'll understand."

"Okay Mrs Ormerod." The young woman replied quietly, obviously not one to disagree with her employer. She bid the family as equally as quiet farewell, receiving hugs from all three children before departing.

Forcing herself to smile in response to the children's insistence she join in with their game, Jill couldn't help the shadows that clouded her thoughts. She did hope Gordon's overprotective approach wouldn't last long. She hated being mollycoddled! Did he think she was totally incapable? Yet as these annoyances took over, a niggling worry couldn't be ignored. Just maybe there was another reason he didn't want her alone with the children. Perhaps?

The scene was disturbed again some two hours later by the ringing of the phone. Jill had prepared dinner for the four of them, they had eaten and washed up. She had bathed and changed Jonathan, though the task took her considerably longer than usual; having to be careful lifting heavy objects, including her son, had its limitations. But the satisfaction of having proven everyone wrong was worth the pain. And so they were once again settled on the living room floor. Upon hearing the telephone, Katie sprang up and dashed out into the hall, answering loudly enough for them all to hear.

"Jill! It's Dad, he wants to speak to you!"

"Alright. Tell him I'm coming." The message was relayed to Gordon as Jill, using the settee to aid her, rose from the floor. A sharp gasp was released as her stomach muscles contracted with the movement, pulling on her internal and external stiches. "Gordon?" She asked once Katie handed her the receiver. "Yes I'm fine… Sarah, erm, yes she's still here… No I haven't sent her home… Yes I'm letting her take care of the children… Alright I'll see you later. Bye."

She returned to the living room, for once pleased that the children were engaged in a noisy game; hopefully they hadn't heard her lying to their father.


	19. Chapter 19

The sun had set long ago, the darkness well and truly encompassing the small town, when Gordon pulled into the driveway. He engaged the break and climbed wearily from the car, stooping to retrieve his doctor's bag from where he'd slung it on the back seat. With a barely suppressed yawn, he trudged to the house, stopping only to lock the car door. The light filtering through the curtains of the front room prompted a small smile to appear on his tired features; it looked as though Jill was still up. He hadn't seen her all day and was looking forward to spending some time with her.

He missed seeing her at the hospital. He hadn't realised until then just how much the little things meant; the smiles whilst passing each other in the corridor, a hand on the back while waiting in reception, a quick cup of tea between patients. And, less romantically, work was harder with Jill out of action. They were still running on two doctors, although a locum was due in the next couple of days. Morning and evening surgeries were longer, house calls were more numerous, and ward rounds were taken by whoever happened to be free at the time. Count on top of this the additional strain of an emergency call out, and it wasn't surprising that Gordon felt he could fall asleep right there on his doorstep.

It seemed her wasn't the only one verging on exhaustion. Entering the living room, the sight that met his eyes was that of this wife, curled in the corner of their settee, book in lap but her head in her hand, her eyes closed, asleep. A soft smile fell on his lips at the image; it never failed to warm him at being able to gaze unabashed at the woman he could call his wife.

"Hey sweetheart." He lowered himself beside her, removed the book from her lap and took hold of her free hand.

Ever the light sleeper, at his touch and gentle words, she roused. She gazed sleepily at him for a moment through blurry eyes whilst she became more conscious. "Hi." She replied in a murmur, wincing as she moved; her neck was stiff from being held in such an unnatural position whilst she slept. "How was work?"

"Busy." He sighed, letting go of her hand and leaning back against the cushions. "What about you; how was your day?"

As her husband relaxed, she unfurled her legs and manoeuvred into a more upright position, though of course she was careful not to create any physical contact. "Fine. Tom was complaining of a headache. But I think he was just over-tired; he was fast asleep when I checked on him earlier."

He nodded in reply. "Did Sarah leave long ago?"

"No… Not long." She forced herself to maintain eye-contact; forced her guilt at lying not to manifest itself in her actions.

They were both silent a moment. Jill fought to remain nonchalant in the face of her lie, and Gordon was at a bit of a loss as to what to say. Talking to her had never been so hard before. Eventually, he looked over, seeing Jill's eyelids start to droop as she once again succumbed to the pull of sleep. It made him realise again just how far she had to go before she recovered from the procedure.

"You look tired." His voice was soft, his fingers gentle as they brushed across her cheek. "Why don't you go up to bed?"

Relief that he seemed not to have seen through her façade spread through her as she nodded, rising and walking slowly to the hallway. At the door she paused, turning back. "Are- Are you coming?" The image of his position the previous night - laid as far away from her as he could – came unbidden to her mind, making her question faulting and nervous.

"Later. I'll make myself a quick dinner first."

She nodded in reply, smiling softly at him, before turning and making her way upstairs. Despite his soft words and actions, she couldn't help the worry building within her; was he telling the truth, or did he just want to get rid of her?


	20. Chapter 20

Gordon swiftly silenced the shrill alarm clock with a sharp hand. He groaned, stretched, and eased himself from the bed. Much as he wanted nothing more than to spend just another few minutes in bed, he knew it would be dangerous; he was tired enough to fall back to sleep in an instant. He glanced over at Jill as he crossed to the en-suite bathroom. She'd stirred only minimally at the alarm whereas normally she'd have been wide awake. It was testament to her exhaustion, something else which reminded him how much the operation had taken out of her.

A quick shower served to wake Gordon up. He entered the bedroom to dress, feeling ready to begin the daily battle to get the children up, ready and out the door on time. As he slid the knot of his tie up, tightening it and straightening it, Jill began to wake behind him. He turned, smiling as she squirmed a little before yawning and finally opening her eyes. "Hey."

"Hey." She replied, rubbing her eyes. She shifted into a sitting position, unable to hide the grimace of pain at the movement.

"Still bad?" He asked softly, crossing the room to perch at her side.

She shook her head in reply, shifting some more until she round a relatively comfortable position. "I'll take some painkillers in a bit. They'll sort me out."

"It's better than it was though?"

A small smile tugged at her lips in response to her husband's concern. "Yes it's certainly easing. I only woke a couple of times last night."

"Good." He smiled at the relief of knowing his wife was recovering well, physically at least. He leant in, placing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling back to gaze at her, his thumb stroking her soft cheek. Unable to resist kissing her again, he closed the gap, this time leaving a lingering kiss. "What will you be doing today?"

"I'm going to go over the papers Adam gave me, see if I can fathom any sort of fundraising plan."

"Hmm well don't overdo it, will you."

She tutted. "Yes Gordon because sitting down reading all day is akin to hiking across the moors."

"Alright Miss Sarcastic." He scowled but placed a kiss to her cheek. "Just make sure you let Sarah help you out again."

"Yes Gordon." Again, the guilt at lying to him crept upon her. But it was surely better than the argument that would have followed had he discovered she'd sent Sarah home early.

He patted her leg and rose. "Anyway, I'd best get the children up." This turned out to be a task which was none too simple that particular morning. Jonathan woke up grumpy. Tom continued to complain of a headache, though it was revealed he had a maths test that morning so Gordon was immediately dubious at his claim. And all three children managed to create an awful din at the breakfast table, arguing about goodness knows what. Although Jonathan wasn't so much arguing, more joining in with the shouting for the sake of it. Gordon's shout was louder than the three of them put together though, which served to silence them to at least finish their breakfast. Still, he was glad when Sarah arrived to occupy Jonathan whilst he chivvied the other two along.

"Thank you for staying last night Sarah." He said once he'd finally managed to get Tom to brush he teeth and Katie her hair. He ruffled Jonathan's hair as he sat upon the young woman's lap.

"Oh, erm… Mrs Ormerod said she'd speak to you."

"About what?" He frowned, though still looked kindly upon the nanny.

"I- She… She told me to leave after I picked Katie and Tom up from school – so I could go to my evening class. She said she'd be okay! I'm sorry!"

"Hey. It's alright. There's no need to apologise." He forced a smile; it wasn't Sarah's fault. He knew all too well what Jill could be like.


	21. Chapter 21

A frown alighted on her face as the front door was closed with a firm slam. She lay still, straining to hear who may have left, and sure enough, the voices of Gordon and children floated up to her from outside. She slid out of bed, wincing as she did so, and padded to the window. With a hand upon her stomach, she moved aside the net curtains, just enough to allow her to see Gordon's dark green car reversing from the drive, before turning, and speeding down the road. Her frown deepened as her fingers absentmindedly massaged the incision site. Neither Gordon nor the children had come up to see her before they'd left. And he knew she was awake, he'd spoken to her! A glance at the clock on her bedside table told her the time wasn't particularly late; they could have spared a couple minutes.

Walking slowly towards the bathroom, the pain intensified, banishing all thoughts of her family's quiet departure. It was definitely time to take some more painkillers. She dressed as quickly as she could, though as time wore on, each movement slowed, until she was clenching her teeth against the tears forming as she buttoned her blouse. Yet she couldn't allow herself to leave her bedroom just yet. Her hair would have to be fixed, and a little makeup applied; she couldn't let Sarah see her in anything less, she had a reputation to keep up, after all.

And so it was a further 10 minutes later that she finally began the descent of the stairs. A hand flew to her mouth as she reached the middle of the staircase, smothering the sob she emitted. She cursed herself, cursed her condition, cursed the whole situation. The anger served to spur her on, allowing her to reach the kitchen with no more lapses of composure. Still, her hands shook terribly as she fought to open the jar of pills. Two were extracted and swallowed, and she finally allowed herself to sink into one of the kitchen chairs, taking slow sips of cold water to steady herself.

It was a further 15 minutes until she felt able to make her way into the living room to join Sarah and Jonathan. "Hello Sarah." She smiled kindly, picking her medical journal from the coffee table and easing herself into the armchair. "And hello Jonathan." She winked at her son who giggled, outstretching his arms towards her.

"Would… Would you like him Mrs Ormerod?" The younger woman asked hesitantly, averting her gaze. This in itself seemed odd to Jill; she was a shy girl, but she seemed to have come out of her shell in the few months she'd worked as their au pair. But she said nothing, merely nodding and holding out her arms for her son, thanking Sarah when he was placed in her lap. If the situation continued she might enquire, but for now, she didn't want to make the girl feel any more uncomfortable than she already was.

"Aren't you growing fast?" She grinned, shifting him to a more comfortable position on her lap; he was certainly getting heavy. He made an unintelligible noise then, reaching for the journal in his mother's hand. "Ah, I don't think you'll enjoy reading that son. There are no bears or talking trains in there. Ah, I see." She continued when she relinquished her grasp and he promptly dropped it to the floor. "You take after your Daddy don't you? He thinks I read too many journals too."

A peaceful morning was thus spent. Jill alternately read and played with Jonathan. Sarah cleaned and did some ironing. These were not her normally duties, but with Jill out of action, and Gordon's longer hours at the hospital as a result, Gordon had deemed it wise, and had thus increased Sarah's pay. Sarah then prepared lunch for them all, informing Jill that she had used the last of the bread. The doctor made a mental note to inform Gordon, she was sure he would ring to enquire as to her health as he had done the previous day.

It was in fact whilst they were eating lunch that the telephone did ring. Sarah got up to answer it, returning with a concerned expression on her face. "That was the school Mrs Ormerod. They said Tom's been sick."

"Oh dear." Jill's face fell, a pang of worry sweeping through her. "Okay erm, can you go and fetch him please? You can leave Jonathan here. Oh and," She rose, making her way through to the hall and pulling her purse from her handbag on the coat rack. "Take a taxi; he'll be in no fit state to walk. This should cover it." Some money was handed to the au pair who nodded and promptly set off for the school.

Jill thus set about preparing the living room for her step-son. His blanket and pillow were fetched from upstairs, along with his favourite stuffed toy. The bucket was retrieved from beneath the sink and her medical bag from the hallway cupboard.

She then settled down to help Jonathan finish his lunch whilst her worry, for a child who wasn't strictly her own, grew. She prayed it wasn't serious.


	22. Chapter 22

"Oh sweetheart." Jill uttered as Sarah appeared at the living room door with a very pale Tom who was crying her name. She rose and drew him into a hug, forcing herself not to flinch as he gripped her middle too tightly. "Let's get you into your pyjamas hey. Then you can snuggle up on the settee with me."

She urged him up the stairs with her, wishing she could carry him as he started sobbing. She helped him change as quickly as possible then handed him his teddy, gathered up his duvet and pillow, and helped him back downstairs. He settled relatively quickly onto the settee though started crying again when she made to leave him.

"I'm only going to get you some medicine Tom." She crouched at his head, stroking his hair tenderly. "I'll only be a few seconds. Okay?" At his teary nod, she rose slowly, holding onto the coffee table and the arm of the settee for support.

"How is he?" Sarah asked as soon as Jill entered the kitchen.

"Poorly, the poor thing." She replied, waving at her son who was sat in his high chair running his favourite car along it. "Do you mind looking after Jonathan and Katie until Gordon comes home please? The last thing we want is them catching it as well."

"Of course not. Just shout me if you need anything."

"Thanks." She turned, laden with junior aspirin, a plastic beaker of water and an old washing-up bowl. As she passed through the hallway, she picked up her doctor's bag.

"Jill!" Tom exclaimed, managing a small smile as his step-mother returned to him.

"See, I told you I wouldn't be long." She eased back down beside him, snapped open her bag and withdrew her glass thermometer which was placed beneath Tom's armpit. She supported him as he took some aspirin and sipped some water. The thermometer was then removed and she held it up so they could both see. "Your temperature's a little high, but nothing to worry about. I think you've got a tummy bug Tom. You'll be fine, but you'll feel a bit icky for a while."

"I do." He sniffed, nodding morosely before descending into tears once again.

"Oh sweetheart." She eased him up enough so she could sit behind him, then drew him against her in a gentle hug. "You try and get some sleep. It'll make you feel much better. And I'll stay here with you."


	23. Chapter 23

It was only later, when Katie and Jonathan were settled in their respective rooms, and the nanny had gone home, that she realised there had been no phone call from her husband that day, no message from Lizzie to say he couldn't call. The thought occurred to her as she tucked Tom into his bed. She'd been looking forward to having a chat with him; she missed seeing him at work, missed their breaks, lunches, quick chats in reception. And, on a more practical note, she was going to ask him to pick up some food.

Still, he had likely been busy. She knew all too well what the job was like, and his work load would still be significantly higher than normal if the new locum hadn't arrived. And as for Lizzie actually remembering to pass on a message to her from him…

The sound of the front door opening interrupted her thoughts. She smiled, glancing down at Tom to see he appeared settled for the time being, and made her way downstairs. "Evening love." She called when she reached the bottom. A response was lacking and she frowned, her smile vanishing. "Gordon?"

"I'm going to make a sandwich." Came his response as he walked away from her and into the kitchen. His voice sounded different, strained, as if he were speaking through gritted teeth or fighting to keep his tone level. This all served to create an uneasy feeling within her. She brought her hand up, chewing on her thumb as was customary when she was worried.

"We're… We're out of bread." She said nervously from the doorway. When all she received was a grunt in response, she continued. "I would have asked you to get some. I thought you were going to call."

"Well I didn't see the point. You'd only have lied to me again."

Her breath caught, the anger in tone creating a leaden feeling in her stomach. She held no doubt as to the subject behind his accusation. There was a long moment of silence, until she eventually managed to gulp "Sorry?"

"Oh don't play the innocent with me Jill!" He swung around and glared.

Seeing the fury in his face was worse than hearing his shout. "I… I knew how you'd react."

"And so you lied to me?"

"I didn't want an argument."

"Any argument would have been justified Jill. What you cannot justify, is lying to me."

"I- " She faltered, unable to think of a suitable response. He was right, for all she was going for the easy life, it didn't excuse her deceiving him. It's not as if she misled him – she outright lied to him!

"I'm going to make an omelette, then I'm going to eat it in the dining room. I don't want any company."

"I'm sorry." She whispered but he'd already turned from her. There was no indication he'd heard her for he remained facing away from her. So she departed quietly, only giving into the building pressure of tears once she was safely in the darkened hallway.

Gordon, too, was struggling to keep his own emotions in check. He wanted nothing more than to accept her apology, run after her and take her in his arms. But part of him was still angry that she's lied to him. And that anger stemmed from hurt, and from worry as to the security of their marriage.


	24. Chapter 24

The next time Jill saw Gordon was getting on for midnight. She stepped out of Tom's bedroom after having settled him once again, and met her husband in the hallway. They stared at each other in the dim light, both unsure of the other's emotions, both unsure how any words would be received.

"Is Tom okay?" Gordon finally chose a topic that would be the least likely to ignite tempers or anger.

"He came down with a sickness bug today." She replied, somewhat relieved by Gordon's calm tones, revealing none of the anger of earlier in the evening. "He seems to be over the worst of it, thankfully." Though as soon as she spoke the words, a soft whimper, then a cry could be heard from behind the closed door. She sighed, muttering 'oh dear', and made to enter the room. A hand on her arm, however, stopped her. He released her and she frowned, trying to recall exactly how the grip had felt; it was certainly firm, not painful, but nor was it especially gentle. The hardness of his next words served to deepen the furrow in her brow.

"I'll go."

"No, you're alright." The reply was uttered calmly as she forced herself not to retaliate against her husband's attitude, an attitude she was still trying hard to pinpoint. "You've work tomorrow. You need your sleep."

"But I'm his father!"

"And I'm his step-mother. What was it you said just after we were married? We're a family now?" She shot him a pointed stare and returned to Tom's room.

Left alone, and at a loss in the hallway of his own home, he sighed heavily. He wished, not for the first time that everything would magically be okay, that they could return to how they were before the events of a few weeks ago. But… He was his turn to frown as he trudged into their bedroom and began the mundane task of changing for bed. But their relationship hadn't been a happy one even before Jill had suffered so badly. They'd argued, too much. A 'rough patch' Jill had termed it. It was then he began to wonder if there was something more serious underlying their arguments. Perhaps if it wasn't for the loss of their baby and the subsequent hysterectomy, they would have dealt with it by now, gone on the holiday Henry bequeathed to them, and returned to being happy and in love in their marriage. As he sank wearily onto the bed and turned to look at the side devoid of his wife, he realised their recent tragedy had only served to compound their problems.


	25. Chapter 25

"I think we need a chat."

Jill looked up slowly from staring blankly at the carpet, focussing on her husband in the doorway. He advanced into the room, holding out his hand to her. With a tentativeness that pained both of them, she reached out, sliding her chilled fingers over his warmer ones. He clasped her hand in his; the sensation of his wife's skin against his own, created through such a simple and innocent act, was pleasing, despite the circumstances. With a gentle tug she rose, glancing back to ensure Tom was still asleep.

She hated the harshness of the light that met her as they entered their bedroom. She was much more comfortable in the dimness of the hallway, the only illumination being provided from the light of streetlamps outside filtering through the curtains. She hated the way every corner of the bedroom was lit up, how everything was stark and clear, how she'd been able to see the expression on her husband's face… How he'd be able to see hers.

He lowered them down to the edge of the bed though didn't release her hand, merely changing their hold to a more comfortable position; he wanted to make her at ease, let her know through his touch that he was no longer angry. Nevertheless, the silence was an uncomfortable one. She sat with her head bowed, her beautiful face averted, allowing Gordon gaze sadly at her whilst he formulated his words. "Jill… I-"

"I'm sorry Gordon." She interrupted suddenly, forcefully, her head lifting and her gaze meeting his with a deep intensity. "I shouldn't have lied to you."

"Why did you?" He asked quietly. It wasn't the direction he'd intended the conversation to take. But despite the absence of the anger, the hurt from being lied to was still there; he needed to know.

She shrugged, which he began to think was an insensitive dismissal of his feelings until she spoke. "Because I hate this whole cursed situation! Because I want to be able to do everything. And because I know I can." She paused, averting her eyes once again as they began to fill with tears. "I lied because I know you think differently. I knew there'd be an argument, and I was worried that… That other things would be brought up."

He was silent whilst trying to get unravel what she had told him, what she had hinted at, and what she was still hiding. The 'I know you think differently' comment worried him; was it merely surrounding her recovery to which she was referring, or was she hinting that she thought he held no belief in her abilities? And then the 'other things'. He wasn't at such a complete loss as to what she may have been worried about. Still, he wanted to be surer before broaching upon that topic. He opened his mouth. To say what, he didn't know. But he knew Jill would need to hear something. Yet before he could, a cry could be heard from one of his offspring, this time the youngest.

Jill quietly excused herself, rising and leaving the room, closing the door tightly behind her. After his wife's form disappeared from view, he flopped back on the mattress with a deep, heavy sigh. Why was it that after that talk, everything seemed even more complicated?


	26. Chapter 26

Jill's fingers absentmindedly massaged her head as she surveyed the mess that was her kitchen. Jonathan, who had been playing up all day for both Jill and his nanny had decided to knock his food off of his highchair. Katie had released a yelp as the bowl of mush looked sure to make contact with her dress. She thus scrambled out of the way, knocking over her glass of milk in the process. The result was a milky mess dripping off of the table and onto the tiled floor, and an aggravation of the headache that had been slowly building throughout the day. With a heavy sigh, she lowered herself slowly to the floor, biting back a groan, and began to clear up. She was beginning to wish she hadn't sent Sarah upstairs with Tom's dry toast. Though the stairs would have been painful to her tender stomach to climb, they would have been preferable to being crouched in an awkward position.

Eventually Sarah returned, taking over the task and allowing Jill to stand and gingerly stretch. "I'm just going for some fresh air." She muttered, fetching her shoes and coat and exiting through the back door. She made her way across the garden and out through the wooden gate set into the perimeter brick wall and partially hidden by masses of trailing plants. Their garden backed onto a cliff top path edging the headland, with views of the bay below.

Massaging her operation site with one hand, she leant against the black metal railings, closed her eyes and breathed in deeply the crisp sea air. She had only been outside one since her operation, and that had only been from hospital to car, and then from car to house. She hoped the fresh air would give some clarity to her thoughts, help her unravel her emotions, and hopefully get rid of that headache.


	27. Chapter 27

"Hello!" Gordon called out as he stepped into the hallway of his house. He heard a couple of responses from the living room and he smiled as he hung up his coat, glad to be back with his family after a long day at the hospital. "How are you all?" He asked upon entering the front room, scooping up Katie as she ran towards him.

"Fine!" She grinned, squirming to be placed down. He acquiesced and made his way to smooth a hand over Jonathan's tufty hair whilst Katie chattered about her day at school.

"How's Tom?" He asked once his daughter had quieted.

"He seems a bit better. He had some toast for tea which he's kept down so far."

A feeling of relief washed through him; he hated seeing any of his children ill, even if his medical knowledge gained him the reassurance the illness wasn't serious. "And Jill?" He noted how hadn't seen or heard her since his arrival.

"She went out a while ago for some fresh air."

He sighed. "Did she say where she going?"

"No, but she left through the back gate."

"Right I'll go look for her." He thanked the nanny kindly before a scowl set upon his features to accompany his march out the house, through the garden, and down the cliff-top path. His concern was marred by anger as he silently cursed his wife. He couldn't believe she'd been so stupid; jeopardising her recovery once again!

He rounded a corner, and there a few meters before him, was the familiar form of his wife. But as he neared, he started to realise something was wrong. She was leaning heavily on the railings, almost as if they were supporting her. Her head hung low, her hair flowing down to hide her face. The anger dissipated and the worry grew. He picked up his pace until he was running.

"Jill!" He gasped, reaching her side.

"I'm sorry Gordon." She raised her head slowly, her eyes locking with his, seeking some sort of reassurance from him.

"It's alright." He soothed, placing both hands on her upper arms, turning her gently to face him. Her unhealthily pale skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, her eyes wet and pleading, her hands clinging to the lapels of his coat as if she would fall if she let go. And he didn't doubt that she would; he pulled her against him, his arms encircling her, his hands supporting her, and she immediately sagged.

"I didn't mean to."

"To what?" He asked gently, dipping his head closer to hers in order to hear her quiet words.

"To…" She whimpered, leaning against him more heavily. "To be so stupid."

A soft sigh escaped him, and he placed a tender kiss to her head. "Let's talk later hey. Right now we need to get you home. Do you think you can walk back?"

She nodded, though the tight grip she had on him as he shifted her to his side belied her words. Nevertheless, they began a slow walk back up towards the house. She bit her lip against every cry, whimper, or moan which threatened to be released with each step. Her head was pounding with a vengeance, her stomach, which had been even more painful than normal that day, was made worse by the convulsions of vomiting only minutes previously. Now, with each movement, it seemed as though knifes were piercing through the incision side and twisting inside of her until her whole abdomen was besieged with pain.

She stopped suddenly, crying out her husband's name as nausea once more threatened to overcome her. He whispered soothingly to her in response, tightening his hold on her, and guiding her head to his shoulder, encouraging her to close her eyes. As he rubbed a hand over his wife's back in an attempt to sooth her rapid and ragged breaths, he took a worrying glance up the hill. They had not yet travelled half the distance, and yet Jill was worsening rapidly. The distance wasn't far, yet he realised it probably seemed like an impossible task to Jill who was exhausted, nauseous and in intense pain. What she needed, as soon as possible, were painkillers, fluids, and rest.

He took the decision then, swiftly scooping her up and cradling her against him as he paced the rest of the way up the path. The back gate was kicked open and he manoeuvred them through the small entryway, protecting Jill's head against his shoulder. He eased her down to stand once they reached the back door, though he had to hold her tightly to him to prevent her fall. Her body was even more lethargic. Her head lay heavily against his shoulder, her limbs weak and trembling, and all she emitted were soft groans and whimpers. Once the door was open, he lifted her again, thankful the children were not in any of the rooms he passed through; he didn't want them seeing Jill in such a state.


	28. Chapter 28

He undid the buttons of her blouse, pushing it from her shoulders and freeing her arms from the cotton; not an easy task when he was also supporting her lethargic body slumped against him. The rest of her clothes were removed with as much difficulty, though with no less tenderness, until he was able to slip her long white nightdress over her head. He guided her arms through the relevant holes, straightening the fabric around her form.

She grabbed hold of him then, pushing herself away and clutching the bucket beside her. He held her hair whilst she vomited, looking on sadly as she whimpered and cried, clutching at her stomach even after she'd finished.

"It looks like you've got Tom's bug." Gordon said with sympathy, removing the bucket then stroking a hand across her cheek as she collapsed against him, crying once more. "I know love." He then soothed, placing a kiss to her warm forehead. "I'll get your painkillers, then we'll get this temperature down."

She nodded, attempting to reply with an expression of her gratitude, but all that came out was a whimper. Her grip tightened on him as he stood, bringing her up with him and reaching around her to pull back the sheets. He guided her under the covers, drawing them up to prevent any chills. He placed his lips to her temple in a lingering kiss, gently extracting his fingers from her tight, desperate grip. And then he reluctantly departed, leaving her writhing with each wave of pain that washed over her with a vengeance. The cries that followed him down the stairs pained him to hear; he almost turned, dashing back to her and gathering her up in his arms once more. Yet he knew this was not what she needed. So he collected her painkillers, a glass of water, a bowl and a flannel from their en-suite bathroom, pausing only to ask Sarah to put the children to bed. And then finally he could return to her.

He helped her into a sitting position, handing her two pills, and steadying the glass of water against her lips as she drank from it. He sat behind her then, supporting her against him. His right arm curled around her, his hand resting on her stomach. It didn't fail to register that it was the first time he'd touched her stomach since the operation. But with Jill feeling as she was, he doubted she currently noticed.

He dabbed the flannel across her forehead, the sides of her face, her neck and as far as the neckline of the nightdress would allow, before returning the cloth to the water to cool again. This process was repeated a great many times until a brush of his lips against her forehead informed him she had cooled. And it seemed the painkillers had kicked in for she had stopped writhing, and had been left exhaustedly awake with her eyes drooping shut, her head heavy on his shoulder.


	29. Chapter 29

"Sweetheart?" He asked softly, crouching down beside her and tenderly tucking her hair behind her ear to better see her face. The tears tracking down her cheeks were painful to see and he looped an arm around her to draw her against him in a hug.

"It hurts." She sobbed with both hands spread across her abdomen.

"I know love." He soothed, coaxing her to her feet. "Let's get you back into bed and I'll fetch your painkillers."

Her answer of thanks was marred by the groan that escaped her lips as she stood; her stomach protesting the movement. She leaned heavily on him during the short walk from the bathroom to their bed, clinging to him as he lowered her down.

Painkillers were gratefully received and swallowed with a little water. He stroked a hand across her cheek, smoothing away the tears as quickly as they fell. It pained him to see her so ill. It was bad enough watching Tom suffer, but Jill was worse. She was still considerably weakened from the ectopic pregnancy and the ensuing operation, meaning the illness had hit her harder than it had his son. Add to that the fact that the pain of the already sore incision site was made considerably worse by the convulsions whilst vomiting, and it was no wonder she felt so wretched.

"How are you feeling darling?" Gordon breathed softly several minutes later, upon noting the tears had lessened and her ragged sobs had quieted.

The reply she gave was a slight nod of her head and an unintelligible murmur. Her eyelids drooped and her breathing deepened, her whole body sinking into the mattress as the analgesia took effect. Gordon rose gingerly, being careful not to disturb her. He refilled her water glass, ensured her painkillers were within easy reach and drew the duvet up around her. A gentle kiss was placed to her soft cheek, and he regretfully withdrew from the room. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her, yet work beckoned; he couldn't leave Mike to run the hospital alone. Not only would it be unfair, it also wouldn't be possible; Mike could hardly deal with three doctors' worth of morning and evening surgeries, house calls, theatre lists, and any emergency that presented itself. Thus, with a weary sigh, Gordon left the house that morning, only after ensuring Sarah would be on hand to check on Jill periodically throughout the day.


	30. Chapter 30

"Gordon! I haven't told you about my victory on the links yesterday!"

"Erm." Was all the doctor uttered, hovering at the doorway to reception. His eyes darted around, looking for any escape route. Perhaps he could invent an emergency, telepathically send a message to Lizzie to pretend the phone had rung. However, a glance at the receptionist told him this would not be possible; she was slumped against the filing cabinet, her eyes constantly drooping shut, and a yawn periodically fighting to escape her lips. It seemed she'd already been regaled with Mr Rose's tales of the golf course.

"Come on man!" Mr Rose called, startling both Gordon and Lizzie. "Make us all a cup of tea and sit down!"

With a resigned sigh, the doctor set about boiling water and pouring it into three patterned cups. Mr Rose meanwhile began speaking with immense enthusiasm, soon pacing and flailing his arms around, demonstrating each swing of the golf club, and then re-enacting the ball's passage into the hole. Lizzie gratefully accepted the cup Gordon handed her, and they both shared a smile of mutual understanding.

Just as Mr Rose reached the 18th hole, his voice rising with the final excitement, the phone rang out through reception. "Thank goodness." Lizzie muttered under her breath, moving quickly to the telephone. "Good afternoon, The Royal!"

Gordon shifted in his seat, forcing himself to keep focussed on the interminably long story Mr Rose was recounting. It wouldn't be worth his while letting his attention wander; Mr Rose would surely pounce on it and he wouldn't hear the end of it for days.

"Doctor Ormerod…"

"Yes?" He looked up with a smile but it quickly disappeared at the anxious expression on Lizzie's face.

"It's Doctor Weatherill. Your nanny says she's fainted or summat. She sounded dead worried Doctor."

"Right." Mr Rose immediately stopped his tale, turning to the doctor. "You best come with me old chap. Lizzie send Robinson in the ambulance." Mr Rose stood swiftly, delivering a swift pat to his colleague's back, in a show of comfort or camaraderie, it wasn't clear. Perhaps it was just to prompt Gordon into action.

"Right away." She dashed away as quickly as her yellow heals would allow, leaving a worried Gordon to follow swiftly after the surgeon's retreating back.


	31. Chapter 31

"Jill?" He pushed past Mr Rose, falling heavily on his knees at her side. "Jill, darling. Can you hear me?"

"Move out the way man." The pipe-wielding surgeon scolded, stepping around Jill to kneel opposite Gordon. With gentle efficiency, Mr Rose lifted the young woman's wrist, his fingers pressing in the space beside the radius. "Pulse is fast."

"Her breathing is too." Gordon murmured, watching his wife's chest rise and fall at a speed that worried him.

Mr Rose gently lifted her top lip. "Lips and tongue are dry. She's very dehydrated. Robinson!" He bellowed, rising and directing the ambulance driver over. "Let's get her to The Royal."

Gordon followed closely behind as Frankie and Steve carried the stretcher down the stairs. He didn't move his anxious gaze from her, leaving Mr Rose to lock the front door.

"You go with her old chap." The surgeon clasped a hand to his shoulder. "I'll meet you at The Royal."

"Right… Yes…" He muttered distractedly, already climbing into the back of the large vehicle and taking a seat by his wife's side. A gentle hand took her smaller one, his thumb stroking a soft rhythm against her skin.

* * *

She awoke only once in the ambulance, though she was very groggy; Gordon wasn't at all sure she was aware of anything around her. Still, he stroked his fingers over her cheekbone and uttered soft words of reassurance even after she had drifted back into unconsciousness. His gaze was one of worry and love. Her reaction to the event was not one he wanted to think of at that moment; it was certainly a setback in her recovery, one that might prevent her from returning to normal activities for an untold amount of time. And that was just the physical implications. The mental and emotional ones were far more complex; he couldn't even comprehend his own wife's thoughts and feelings of the last few months, let alone predict the future.

Forcing himself to concentrate on the present, he took in his wife's features. She was decidedly pale, yet appeared peaceful, and as beautiful as ever. Her features were the same; those he had spent so many hours gazing in awe. So absorbed was he that he didn't realise the ambulance had arrived at The Royal until Frankie opened the back doors. Still, he would not be parted from his wife, keeping a tight hold of her limp hand and an attentive gaze on her as she was carried out of the vehicle, carefully placed on a trolley and wheeled through into casualty.

"Right!" The booming voice of Mr Rose commanded everyone's attention as the surgeon strode into the small room, a cloud of smoke accompanying his arrival. Even Gordon tore his attention away from Jill to watch as Mr Rose examined his patient. "She'll need transferring to the ward, and an intravenous infusion of saline and glucose."

"There's a free bed in the corner of Fawcett." Matron, who had been observing the events with a concerned expression, spoke. "Alun, Ken, take her down please."

"Right away Matron." The older of the two head porter's spoke, tilting his head to Alun to take his place at the head of the trolley. Gordon made to follow the porters but Matron laid a gentle hand on his arm, prompting him to remain, reluctantly, stationary.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Matron, erm… She'll need her painkillers; the vomiting, it's making the operation site very painful for her." Gordon ran a hand distractedly through his hair, his eyes constantly flicking in the direction she had been taken, worrying increasingly irrationally the longer she was out of sight. "They're at home. I, I didn't think! I-"

"I'll prescribe her some more." The surgeon clamped a hand down on his shoulder. "Stop panicking man!"

Gordon nodded in thanks, then as silence descended, began shifting awkwardly on the spot. He didn't normally feel uncomfortable around his colleagues. On the contrary, he could usually partake in any manner of conversation. But at that moment he was reluctant to utter a word, for fear it would keep him from Jill a moment longer.

"Go on." Matron said softly. And that was all the encouragement he needed.


	32. Chapter 32

She awoke slowly. She first became aware of a throbbing head, and a pain in her abdomen. Then a sudden nausea washed over her, and she turned quickly, blindly, to be met by a sick bowl. She retched, relieving herself of the burning bile and much of the nausea, though the pain in her abdomen and head only increased in intensity.

With a soft groan, she flopped back against the pillows, only vaguely aware of the bowl being removed. Seconds later, gentle fingers were placed into her hair, massaging through the strands, whilst a thumb stroked her forehead.

She opened her eyes a fraction, tilting her head slightly to the right, though there was really no need; she knew that hand, that touch. Countless nights, when alone, relaxed together, had she been gifted with that tender and loving caress. A soft smile fell upon her lips, until the reality of her situation dawned on her. Gradually, she became aware of her surroundings; the now all too familiar starched sheets, the soft swoosh of the ward doors, the background murmur of nurses and patients informing her she wasn't alone with her husband.

The smile she had worn now turned to a frown as she fought against the tears building rapidly beneath her lids.

Seeing a change in his wife's demeanour, Gordon leant closer, his free hand moving to lay upon her blanket covered arm. "Darling?"

She moved her head slightly in a weak dismissal of his questioning tone. "I don't want to be here." Came the eventual, tearful response. Her chest rose and fell in a juddering motion in time to her ragged breaths.

"I know love." He attempted to sooth.

"No." She shook her head again. "Please, let me go home."

Seeing his wife in such upset actually caused him physical pain, filled his own eyes with tears. "Oh darling." He moved closer still, his face now only inches from hers. He brushed a kiss to her damp cheek before lowering his head to the pillow beside her. His forehead rested against her temple. The tears rolled down the sides of her face and onto his own skin.

* * *

"What do you think?" Gordon asked on a sigh as he lowered himself into the cushioned chair behind his desk.

"Well it'll certainly set her recovery back. But of course until the virus passes, we won't know by how much." Mr Rose pulled the pipe from his mouth and seemed to study it for a moment before speaking again. His usual brusque boom was gone. Instead, his voice was almost gentle. He certainly sounded regretful. "I'd like to keep her in until she's completely over this virus. It's a shame we can't help it on its way. But I'm afraid, as you know, her body will have to fight it alone. And in her already weakened state… She may be in for a while old chap."

Gordon sighed once again, recalling the upset that had immediately overcome his wife's features upon realising she was back in hospital. She hadn't vocalised the reason for her distress, though he had a fair idea. It came as a relief when she succumbed to exhaustion. Her face became no longer anguished with sobs. Instead, she appeared at peace as she slept. He had tenderly wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks before following his colleagues for a discussion as to his wife's condition.

"Jill won't like it." He addressed Mr Rose's mention of the lengthy stay as a patient. "And I can see where she's coming from. After my car accident, I hated my time in here, being cared for by my colleagues. But it's even worse for Jill. She… Being a woman, she's had to fight so hard to be accepted and taken seriously. I think she feels she's going to lose everyone's respect."

"Oh I can't see that happening Doctor." Matron spoke up, shaking her head softly.

"But she's such a private person." He argued back. "Already, the staff are gossiping about her. I've heard them, and I wouldn't be surprised if they've been indiscrete enough to allow Jill to hear too."

"I'll be having words. I'll put a stop to it, don't worry about that." Matron spoke firmly. "In the meantime, perhaps we could place her in a side ward. Do you think that would make things easier for her?"

"I think it would, thank you." And Gordon smiled for the first time since Lizzie had informed him Jill had collapsed. He was incredibly touched by the concern both of his colleagues before him held for his wife. She often found Mr Rose infuriating, and thought Matron against her, but their actions today proved they held a great deal of respect and affection for the female doctor.


	33. Chapter 33

The hour was still quite early. He wasn't due to start work for another hour. He had a growing mountain of paperwork awaiting him on his desk; he had been ignoring it for a while but it was becoming so that the pile was becoming unstable. Still, he entered his office only to deposit his bag before returning to the corridor to make his way to the wards.

"How is she?" He stopped Matron in the corridor, relieved to see a reassuring smile.

"Ah good morning Doctor. She hasn't vomited all night. I think she's finally over the worst."

"Thank goodness." He sighed, already continuing on his journey, not stopping to make pleasant conversation with his colleagues, so desperate was he to see his wife. "Hello darling." He smiled down at Jill as he reached the side of her bed. The smile soon slipped as he met her tired eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and he was sure she was trembling beneath the blankets. "Jill?" He questioned urgently.

"I- I'm fine."

"You're shivering." He reached forward and cupped her face in his palm. A frown creased his brow as soon as their skin made contact. "You're burning." He brushed the back of his hand across her forehead, immediately turning and bellowed, "Nurse!" bringing one rushing forward. "Take Doctor Weatherill's temperature please."

Nurse Davenport nodded, plucked the rod of glass from a small trolley and placed it in Jill's mouth. Gordon watched on in concern as Stella removed the thermometer and relayed the reading.

"Fetch Mr Rose and Doctor Banner please nurse."

As soon as the nurse departed, Gordon turned to his wife. He brushed a hand across her damp, heated cheeks and forehead, noting the deep flush that had coloured them. "I thought you were over the virus Sweetheart. It must be something else. Do you hurt anywhere? Darling?" He prompted when she remained silent.

"My… My stomach." She eventually, reluctantly, choked out. A soft, uncharacteristic whimper was released as Gordon pulled down the bedcovers and raised her nightdress, being careful to preserve her modesty. The temptation to cover herself up was strong and Gordon had to gently remove her hands as she made to tug the nightdress down.

"What have we here?" Mr Rose's booming voice and a puff of smoke heralded his presence. He stepped up to the bed, looking down at his fellow colleague.

Jill cringed at the attention and had to fight the even stronger urge to cover herself.

"High temperature and guarding." Gordon provided, outlining the area he was concerned about. His hand brushed gently over her stomach, Jill hoped it wasn't accidental. "I erm." He sighed heavily before continuing. "I think the incision site may have reopened, internally."

It was as Jill had thought, and she closed her eyes briefly at the unwelcome confirmation.

"Nonsense." The surgeon denied. "That was first class work."

"But she has been vomiting."

"Hmm." Was Mr Rose's reply as he bent down to begin his own investigation.

As the unwelcome intrusion upon her modesty increased, Jill merely averted her eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the worsening pain in her stomach, and the embarrassment of it all. If only she could detach herself from her own body…

A sharp gasp was realised as Mr Rose prodded an especially painful area.

"Sorry my dear." He muttered, though didn't pause in his analysis of her condition.

Gordon had been watching Mr Rose's examination, yet upon hearing the gasp of pain, he drew his attention to his wife. The sheer embarrassment was evident in her expression; he could no longer be sure whether the pink that tinged her cheeks was purely from her fever. He stepped closer to the head of the bed, reached out and brushed a hand across her forehead to rest in her hair. His other hand covered her tightly formed fist, his thumb stroking a soothing motion.

"I'm afraid, my dear, we'll have to cut you open again."

"As I thought." Jill sighed, clutching at the sheets as Gordon arranged them over her again.

"We'll whip you in straight away." Mr Rose, already departing, paused at the ward doors. "Quick as you can Gordon, let's get your lady wife sorted once and for all."


	34. Chapter 34

He couldn't deny he was scared, despite knowing the urgency was not nearly as great as the first time she had been taken into theatre. It seemed like ages, he reflected, since their lives had been changed so suddenly and so dramatically. He wanted so desperately to be back when they were happy. It wasn't even as if it was an especially eventful moment he yearned after.

The scene in his mind took shape. He and Jill, in their living room. She would be curled up next to him on their settee, relaxing against his chest. He would have his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close, making sure she knew she was cherished. They would be talking quietly, sometimes laughing, sometimes kissing…

Another image took over. They were in the park. Katie and Tom were playing, Jonathan was sitting proud in his father's arms. And then another, tiny figure sprang to mind, cradled in Jill's arms. And Jill had such a serene expression of happiness as she gazed upon the bundle…

A knock on his office door drew him away from his thoughts. He wearily raised his head, and reluctantly permitted the person to enter.

"Doctor Ormerod." It was Matron. She closed the door softly behind her and lowered herself into a chair before his desk. "How are you?"

He shrugged, sighed, then shook his head. "I'm sorry Matron. I know I should be seeing patients. But Jill…"

"Don't you worry about that." She was quick to sooth, her voice gentler than the tone she used when addressing her nurses. "We've managed to find a couple of locums who can cover for you today." She paused and he murmured his thanks. "I checked on Doctor Weatherill just before I came to you."

He was suddenly much more alert. His heart rate sped up, increasing the queasiness he'd been feeling ever since it had become apparent his wife had taken a turn for the worse. "How…? How is she?"

"She's doing well. Mr Rose says everything's going as it should be, and he doesn't foresee any problems. He'll come and find you as soon as she's out."

"Thank you." He whispered once more. His heart rate slowly returned to normal yet he couldn't relax. He wouldn't lose the intense worry until she was awake and he was with her.


	35. Chapter 35

The plastic chair was uncomfortable, the overhead light emitted a glaring light, the smell of antiseptic stung his nose. Yet he took none of this in; his attention was fixed solely on his wife. A lump came to his throat and he had to blink back the tears as he brushed a hand over Jill's soft hair. Mr Rose had said the operation was successful and that they had been right in their diagnosis; some of the internal stiches had come loose. He could not say how much this had affected her recovery, for there was the added complication of the virus, though thankfully she appeared be over the worst of that particular problem.

As had happened so many times that day, he couldn't help his mind wandering over various memories from before everything had gone so wrong. How he wished he could be anywhere but sitting by her hospital bed. And how he wished she could be with him. He wanted them to be at home. He wanted Jill to be healthy and happy. If she smiled at him, he longed for it to be genuine, open, and filled with love. Her eyes should sparkle with joy at their life together. And she should be relaxed, comfortable and without pain in his arms.

"Gordon?" the woman in question mumbled with disorientation.

"I'm here Sweetheart." He broke away from his thoughts, focussing his attention on his ill, upset and pained wife before him. In reality, despite wishing things could be different, he was incredibly grateful he could be with her now, for the simple fact that he had so nearly lost her. "We put you in a side room." He spoke gently as she began to take in her surroundings with mild confusion. "We thought it would make the situation a little easier for you."

"Thank you."

He continued the movement of his fingers through her hair, an action he knew comforted her. "How are you feeling?"

"Erm… Okay. Were you right? Did the stiches tear?"

He nodded. "Mr Rose says he repaired them with no problems."

A nod was his reply and she was silent before sighing heavily, and speaking with surprising strength, and a great deal of emotion. "Oh I'm sorry Gordon. I keep causing you so much trouble."

"Hey." He placed a finger to her soft lips, stopping her words but not the tears slipping down her face. "Enough of that talk. All that matters is that you're fine now, okay."

Again, she nodded, and again, her silence was broken by a sigh, though this time it held an angry tone. "I hate how much I'm crying. It's pathetic…" She roughly brushed the tears from her cheeks. "It must be the anaesthetic."

"Yes," he agreed so as not to upset her further. He reached up to tidy her fringe on her forehead. "It must be." In reality, he knew this was not the case. Yet it was not the time for a deep, meaningful exchange. If it gave her a little more dignity to assert the medication was causing her to act out of character, then he going to go along with it.


	36. Chapter 36

"Well here we are again," Jill sighed, gazing up at their home through the passenger window as Gordon drew the large car to a half before it. She grimaced as a pain sliced through her stomach with her movements exiting the car. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her. Little had changed in her condition it seemed since the last time Gordon had brought her home from a stay in hospital. The pain was the same, almost causing her to bend double at times with its sudden sharpness. The virus and its subsequent complications had certainly set her recovery back a couple of weeks.

"I intend to keep you home this time." Gordon spoke with a cheery smile after having retrieved her suitcase from the boot. He offered his free hand to her but she shook her head, choosing instead to make her own slow way into the house. She did, however, grudgingly accept his support to aid her up the stairs. Her body was, if anything, weaker since her second stay in hospital. The banister and Gordon's steady arm around her waist were necessary to support her climb. Yet she was still breathless by the time they reached the top. Tears lined her eyes at the now constant pain rippling through her abdomen and he had to almost carry to bed. "I'll fetch your painkillers now." He pressed a kiss to her dampened cheek and jogged from the room.

The situation was frustrating for the both of them. Jill was obviously distressed at being in such pain again. And Gordon found it upsetting each time he had to witness his strong wife reduced to tears as a result of her condition.

Gordon returned quickly, handing her the painkillers which she gratefully swallowed between tears. With a sympathetic smile, he set about unpacking her small suitcase, placing the items where they belonged with little direction from her. He chatted as he went: informing her about new patients at the hospital; Katie's upcoming piano exam; Tom's football match. She provided few responses, merely closing her eyes against the gradually diminishing pain and letting his words wash over her.

He paused to regard her. It was barely comprehensible that the woman before him was his wife. He wished, not for the first time, that they could be transported back to a time before she lost the baby. Her eyes opened then and he hurriedly fixed a smile to his features. "That's your suitcase unpacked. Would you like me to fetch anything? I have 20 minutes before I need to leave," he added after consulting his watch.

Jill observed his demeanour with a painful heart. His smile was forced, his voice hiding an underlying weariness, his frame barely keeping from slumping. His whole attitude was an act. She knew him well enough to see this. Yet she was too cowardly to confront him, for fear of what real emotions he was hiding. "I'm alright... Thank you," she added, though realised it went little way to express her gratitude at the lengths he'd gone to help her. Especially after what she'd put him through, she thought bitterly. "Why don't you head back to the hospital?" she spoke when he merely continued to stand, staring at her with an unreadable expression. "Get a head start on this afternoon, and then hopefully you can be home early."

He questioned whether she was sure, to which she nodded and forced a smile, knowing he would not leave if she showed any indication of upset or discomfort. When he bent to brush a kiss to her cheek, she grasped his hand, squeezing it briefly but tightly, hoping to convey at least a little of what her words, through her tiredness, could not.


End file.
